


80 Hours

by ddjohan



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Inspired by The Expanse, Menstruation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rocinante - Freeform, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21562138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddjohan/pseuds/ddjohan
Summary: Amos and a friend get a little friendlier on a long trip to/from somewhere.  Ok, they get a LOT friendlier.
Relationships: Amos Burton/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 112





	1. Part 1-4

Naya was laying in the dark of her cabin, the soft hum of the ship's engine lulling her to sleep. Then there was a loud metal click. Her cabin door groaned open, followed by a second click as her cabin door locked closed. She heard the slight swish of cotton pants; standard-issue. Only one other crew member was this quiet. 

She didn't jump, there had to be a reason this person was in her room, but it wasn't until her guest landed on her bed that she opened her eyes to assess who or what was happening. Amos slipped under her sheets directly in front of her, his body close, but not touching her own. She wasn't really surprised to see him; they had kind of been attached at the hip lately, working on one thing or another. But now he was shirtless, and while naked was pretty normal for him, it was somewhat unsettling up close. Personal. And then there were his loose drawstring pants. 

"Amos, what are you doing? I gave you my pass-key in case you needed something. Not because I was looking for a booty call." It wasn't callous, merely inquiring. But if she was being honest with herself, her heart rate had nearly doubled in the space of few dewy breaths. 

"I do need something." His eyes were dark. They're always dark. Amos has one setting. Dark. 

She was fighting the compulsion to let her eyes roam over his chest, but settled on keeping them locked on his face, suffering his nudity in her peripheral vision. He still wasn't saying anything but neither was she. At least she had fatigue and near sleepiness as her excuse. Amos on the other hand did not need an excuse. Amos did not really speak much unless there was something that needed saying. 

She must have let her eyes linger for a moment longer than intended on his mouth, full lips, slightly parted, because a second later he leaned forward like he was going to kiss her, but she matched his movement and leaned back. If this was just a booty call, and it clearly was because he had nothing he wanted to talk about, she wasn't about to indulge and risk throwing her body into something that she knew full-well her heart would only want to follow. If nothing else, Amos was a loyal friend, and she wanted to keep it that way. 

"Amos, really, what are you doing?" It was almost a plea, because goddammit if her body wasn't screaming, 'yes, woman, yes!' How many minutes more would she be able to hold out. Probably not many. She knew he wouldn't press her if she asked him outright to leave... that just meant she actually had to ask him to leave. 

"Amos. I think you should..." he cut her off, not with his mouth, his delicious looking lips; he hugged her. One arm under her neck, the other over her back, and under her arm. He could basically wrap his arms all the way around her. He was over her and under at the same time. She couldn't really do anything except hug him back; not with the position he had her in. His neck and face over her head, she was forced to just lay there and breathe him in. The mix of clean sweat, and metallic oil, and something else, some food. 

She was about to say something, maybe ask him if he was ok, but he breathed in deep; breathed her in. He was smelling her. God knows it was the only thing she could think of; his smell, it was overwhelming her. The longer he held her like that, tight and secure, the more his smell invaded her senses, making it impossible to think of anything else. 

Then finally her body betrayed her, and she lifted her head just a couple of inches to let her nose brush the side of his neck. She could feel his stubble on her soft septum, and that was it. She may as well have declared game-on, because in the next moment Amos swiftly scooped her onto his chest and rolled under her, holding her tight to his body, her legs falling naturally to either side of his hips. He laved open mouth kisses onto her neck the likes of which she had never experienced. It was more like being devoured than kissed. Amos was all tongue and teeth and lips, like a starved man with the wettest most succulent fruit imaginable. He licked and lapped at her throat, all the way from her shoulder to her ear, and then bit and sucked his way back down to her collar bone. 

She was hardly able to react, but if she stood a chance of stopping him before they went any further it would have to be now while she had any sense left at all. Her breathing was becoming uneven, and her eyes were periodically rolling back in her head. She tried to speak, but all the sound she could muster was one faint, breathy word, "Amos..." 

The sound she made definitely didn't stop Amos, in fact it only served to drive him on. Where his hands had once been mid-back, they began roving the length of her sides, from her underarms, and edges of breasts all the way down to her ass.

At the second pass of her sides, when his hands went round the curve under her bum, he pressed his fingers into the hallow of her thighs, and she moaned, actually moaned. A lewd and totally sexual sound that would only be interpreted one way, and she let herself fall onto him panting. Game-over. 

He didn't stop kissing her neck, only moved a few inches lower to include the tops of chest, and shoulders. Then one of his hands came up to tangle in the hair at the back of her head, and he paused all actions. She could feel her pupils blown wide open, and when she looked down at his face, he was searching hers, looking for approval or rejection with an equally wrecked, almost pained, expression on his face. She was struck by just how attractive he was in that moment; square jaw, straight nose, bright round eyes, and the prettiest flush to his cheeks. Her body was screaming, more, now, more now. Amos was scorching hot below her, his body radiating sex. He was more animal than man in this moment, his breaths were nearly growls. 

She tried again to regain some kind of composure, and then he rolled his hips nudging her already burning core with his cock, and she remembered, she was supposed to have her period soon, and definitely would if they ended up fucking. Her face must have changed right before she put her forehead down on his chest, deflated. Because he sensed something and he immediately picked her head back up; with both of his hands; his eyes gave her the slightest flash of inquiry. 

She groaned, almost inaudibly, "I can't." and followed it with a heavy dramatic sigh, as she sat up on his lap. Which actually made the tension between her legs worse, grinding into him further, she shivered at the sensation. 

"I know." Amos said, naturally. Letting his hands fall down over her hips to rest on her thighs.

"What do you know?" Naya couldn't help the sharpness to her tone, clearly sexually frustrated. 

"I know you are bleeding, I can smell it. Copper." But his face didn't change, he still looked like he wanted to eat her alive. "Is that all?"

Her mouth was hanging open, in disbelief. The things Amos said often left people speechless. She certainly didn't have anything else to say. When she didn't respond, Amos continued. 

"I _do_ need something." He repeated his earlier comment, but his intonation left her questioning his meaning this time. She cocked her head to the side, and lifted one eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Naya, I'm not here because I'm bored, or horny; I've stroked myself to sleep for most of my adult life. I'm here, in your bed, because I need you." Amos furrowed his eyebrows, and continued. 

"I don't care if you're bleeding, as long as you're not injured. Sex is messy. People don't have sex because it's clean and tidy. The last time we docked at Ceres, you brought back a bottle of something that smelled like pine or something, and you started wearing it when you're menstruating, and I don't like it. I like the copper; you smell ripe. And when you're bleeding, all I can think about is throwing you in my bed and staying there for a week." He paused as if to contemplate a fantasy he'd been perfecting in his imagination, a little lost in his thoughts, a slight grin pulling at the corner of his lips. 

Amos opened his mouth as if he was about to continue, but she cut him off.

"That might be the most I've ever heard you say in one-go. It also might be the strangest and sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me." And in the breath between stopping speaking, and choosing to lean back into Amos' embrace, she came to terms with the fact that she needed him too.

****

"You know, it's going to be about 80 hours before we get to Tycho." It was playful, insinuating, and all the encouragement that Amos needed. He squeezed her thighs, and Naya leaned back into him. 

She took his face in both her hands, and kissed him properly, hard and on the mouth, bumped his teeth with her own, a little over zealous. But he grabbed her right back and kissed her just as hard. The moan he let go of when she ground her hips down onto him was enough to make anyone blush. It was hungry and wanton. Now that she was kissing him back, touching him back, Amos shifted a bit uncomfortably under her. He was not used to receiving, or partners reciprocating with this much enthusiasm. 

When she ran her hand down the side of his face, and neck and let it rest on his chest, the weight of her small hand caused Amos to flinch. It was a slight motion, but she noticed, and moved her hand off of him slowly. She placed her hand on the bed beside him, and then did the same with her other hand. As soon as she took her hands off of him, his fervor ignited, and his tension dissolved. It was hard to keep her eyes open, the room was dim, and her breathing was erratic at best. The more he touched her, the more she wanted to scream, because she wanted desperately to touch him back. 

All the while their kissing had slowed. Amos was still reveling in the softness of her neck and shoulder, and when he next met her mouth, her eyes were wide and on him. His eyes were still open; he never closed his eyes when he was sexual with another person. There was too much to watch, too much to miss, and too much to risk. People robbed you if you didn't keep both eyes open. Naya's eyes were different, piercing him now, and it startled him, but he couldn't look away. 

He sat up on the mattress, easily lifting her upward with him, so that they faced each other. Amos kissed her cheeks, and lips slowly, never breaking eye contact. He moved his hands down to her chest, and palmed her breasts through her thin shirt, still staring right back at her. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp at the way his thumb was rubbing rough little circles over her nipples through the fabric of the shirt. She lifted her hands up to his sizable arms, squeezed and then rubbed his triceps with the palms of her hand, and squeezed again with just her finger tips lightly, and there it was again, the almost imperceptible flinch. 

"Amos, are you uncomfortable when I touch you?" She managed to get out through ragged breaths, because he had only moments earlier starting biting and licking her breast through her shirt, and it was driving her a little mad. He didn't look up, and didn't stop touching her, 

"No, not specifically. Just not used to it. I'm used to being hit. Haven't really been with anyone in a long time." Which was maybe one of the saddest things she'd ever heard. 

"You don't have to be too gentle with me I guess". He muttered through a mouthful of breast and shirt, and then snaked his other hand under her shirt, up her back, and around the back of her neck.

Following his lead she reached up and around his back, and grabbed his neck with one hand, and wound the other around his low back. Amos was a delicious mass of muscle, everywhere she touched, more muscle and sinew and tendon, hard everywhere. And the harder she grabbed and squeezed the more fevered he seemed. His breathing became almost frantic when she dug her hand into the meat of his traps, which in turn drove her to her own state of frenzy. 

They couldn't get enough of each other's skin. Every part of them that touched burned, and every look that he gave her, that she returned, assured their mutual consent. Finally he pulled away, holding her shoulders firm, and looked her very seriously in the eye.

"If we do this, I'm not going to want to stop after one time. Can I have you for the next 80 hours?" He was holding her very tightly now, almost uncomfortably, and she was slightly frightened about what he was implying.

"Amos." She paused, she wasn't really sure how to answer that, but felt like spending too much time on her answer might ruin the momentum they had built up. How the fuck was she supposed to agree to be a person's sex slave for the next three days. He must have read the inner conflict on her face, or maybe it was her hesitation to answer, but he very swiftly and suddenly stood up and placed her on her feet in front of the bed, and took a step away from her toward the door of her cabin. 

"Wait." But what was she going to say, or what was she hoping. This was exactly what she was afraid of. Exactly why she had tried, in vain, to dissuade him in the first place. She knew that someone was going to get hurt. She didn't want to hurt him. 

"Wait for what Naya?" He was facing the door. 

"Are you really just going to walk away because I'm not sure if I want to be your sex slave for the next 80 hours?" Her voice was a little higher and a little more harsh than she had aimed for, but it stopped him in his tracks, and he turned around to face her again. 

He closed the distance between them in two long strides. Their chests nearly flush, she couldn't help the way this affected her breathing in an instant. By sheer proximity, without any contact at all they were both nearly panting again. 

"I don't want you to be my slave," he ground out, the importance of his words nearly breaking him, he swallowed, "I want to worship you, in any way you'll have me for as long as you'll allow it." And at the end of these words he dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hip. "What I should have said is, 'Naya will you have me for the next 80 hours'"? 

He wasn't looking up at her, but his admission of need was so earnest that it felt like a punch in her chest. Correction, this is what she was afraid of. Afraid of getting in too far, emotionally. She knew she wouldn't be able to separate her sex, and her heart. Even if Amos could walk away after a couple days of marathon sex, she knew she wouldn't be able to. She could feel herself on the brink of admitting how vulnerable this made her. She could feel the words on her tongue; she was practically biting it to keep the words back. A small voice, too small, like a scream in the vacuum of space, unheard, was yelling, 'don't'. 

"What if I want more than 80 hours?" Idiot, the small unheard voice shook its head at her. Now it was her turn to put some distance between the two of them. She placed one hand on his shoulder and tried to push herself away from him, but his arms only tightened. 

"I said, _for as long as you'll allow it_." He spoke in a low voice. She looked down at him, he was staring directly back up at her with an expression that she couldn't name, fierce loyalty, wild desire. Naya knew that when he rose to his feet, unblinking, that Amos felt it too. 

*****

He put one hand on her chest and marched her backward, to the bed, never blinking. She nearly fell onto it when the backs of her legs bumped the edge, but he caught her before she could stumble, and kissed her once on the cheek before he sank to his knees once again in front of her, but this time he dipped his head and put his face right in between her legs and inhaled deeply. She wasn't really surprised, she was used to Amos and his often strange behaviour, and to be honest it was little thrilling. That someone could want you so much that they reveled in the way you smelled. She didn't care anymore why he'd come to her room; just that he was staying. 

Naya sat down on the bed, her knees splayed to either side of his body. He put his hands on the bed on either side of her, and kissed her through her pants, nuzzling his face into the apex of her thighs. He looked up at her and smiled, and then rose to kiss her mouth. Amos reached behind her and slid his hands up the back of her shirt and pulled her closer to him so that their bodies were pressed to each other. This time when she reached out to touch him he did not flinch, and when she ran her hand up his chest, and grazed him with her finger nails he practically purred in her mouth. She leaned back and smiled at him, it was a wicked grin. He returned it and scraped the pads of his fingers down her back, around her hips and placed them on her thighs and pushed her legs even farther apart. 

As she leaned back on her elbows on the bed, he ran one hand up the centre of her body and massaged her breast through her shirt. He leaned down and nosed her cunt through her cotton pants. He wondered idly how she made these damn pants look so good. She smelled feral and fertile. Too many years in a brothel, Amos knew all the ways a person could smell; so far she smelled the best. He blew a lungful of hot air into the fabric, and breathed deeper, rubbed her with his chin, and she writhed on the bed. Her mewls and breathy moans were driving him mad, and while he had no shortage of experience taking and being taken, he wanted to do right by her. 

"Naya?" He said from between her legs. She looked up and blinked a few times, a little mussed and a lot out of breath. 

"Yeah?" God even the sound of her voice turned him on.

"Tell me what you like." He rubbed her core with the palm of his hand, and cupping her mound with his fingers pressed down. She fell back on the bed before she could answer, he chuckled silently to himself. 

"Sorry." He smirked, "I really did want an answer. How about this, you just tell me if you _don't like_ something?" 

This time she didn't even lift her head, just breathed, "Yep." Amos kept rubbing her through her pants, and she shimmied below him. He leaned forward and kissed the sliver of skin visible between her shirt and pants. His beard scraped her skin in the nicest way, his warm breath, soft lips and playful teeth slipped from side to side. She barely noticed that he was slowly sliding her pants off. She laced her fingers in his short hair, and moaned his name, "Amos," which made his heart clench in his chest.

For all the experience he had, Amos couldn't remember a time anyone had ever called his name like that. Growing up on the street he'd always used an alias, he used it still in brothels. The weight of this intimacy was surprising and he liked it.

"Amos, more." Was all Naya said, and it jolted him into action. He grabbed the waist of her pants and pulled them straight off. She gasped a little at her own sudden nakedness and made a move to cover herself but he immediately stilled her hands, giving her a look that said, don't you dare. She inhaled slowly, never taking her eyes off his. He ran his hands up her legs from her ankles to her thighs and back down to her knees, and pushed her legs open again. She could feel her muscles resisting him, but it didn't stop him. He ran one hand up the inside of her thigh and over her hot folds, she exhaled a shaky breath.

Her insides clenched around nothing, he could feel the flex under his hand, and his dick jumped in his pants in response. Amos looked down for a moment, then back up at Naya, and grinned, "They're talking." 

She smiled and leaned forward, she had to touch him, her body was burning for him. If Amos was going to take it this slow, she was going to have to kick him into high gear. She grabbed him and kissed him again, and ran a hand down his chest, paused right before the top of his pants, and then proceeded to palm him through the cotton. Every part of him was hard. He grunted and gasped through the kiss, and pushed his cock farther into her hand. She gave him a few slow pumps, and he slipped first one, then two fingers into her wet and waiting cunt. The sound she made was somewhere between a cry and a gulped moan; he stopped kissing her and looked at her to make sure she was still on-board. She nodded and kissed him again, then rolled her hips against his hand and tossed her head back as he sucked at her neck and collarbone. 

"I want to make sure you feel good," he said, coming up for breath, "and goddamn, I wanna fuck the daisies outta you." He was rhythmically thrusting his cock into her hand, and his fingers into her cunt to the same tempo as their laboured breathing. 

"Yeah - show me." She barely said the words and he was on top of her, pulling his cock out, his pants just past his perfect round ass, lining himself up at her entrance. Any hesitation she'd felt before was gone; she grabbed his ass and squeezed. He rubbed his tip through her folds and slowly pushed inside her, one hand at her hip, the other framing her shoulder and face. 

"Naya," was all he said as he looked her directly in the eye and slammed into her. She gasped at the sudden fullness, and sting of his size. The slow drag as he pulled back out of her was more than either of them could take, he hissed between his teeth and she held her breath, and pushed back in with just as much force. The third or fourth time he pulled back out with deliberate slowness she wrapped her calf up around his ass and rocked back hard into him. It surprised him a little. She did it again. And again. The pace was set, and it was more than a little violent; she knew it would be. 

Amos lifted himself up onto his palms, and cocked one knee up to get more leverage on the bed and a better look at her face as he hammered into her. This new angle shifted his entry just enough that she could feel his tip nudging her G spot, nudging her over the edge. She knew there would be a red mess after this, but she was nearly ripping the mattress with the way she was holding it, and couldn't bring herself to care. Amos didn't seem to care either, wasn't slowing down even though he could feel her insides flutter around him. The high pitch keen as she placed her open hand onto his chest and squeezed was how Naya first came on his cock. He fucked her right through it, and when she was done she was wetter, hotter, and softer than before. 

She was tapping on his chest, but he wasn't even close to finished with her. He slowed down, and started rocking his hips like cracking a whip, and began coaxing her spent lady bits back to life. All the while he was kissing her face. 

"Come on, its still early." He said as he licked the shell of her ear and breathed down the side of her neck. He was still rock hard inside her, and she felt a tiny bit guilty that she wanted a moment to rest. He sounded genuinely happy, and when she looked up at him he was smiling, a huge shit-eating grin right back at her. He pulled out so just the head of his cock was inside her and played a little at her entrance, letting the ridge of his dick slide and pop in and out of her. 

"You're wicked. You know?" She whined, and then reached around and slapped his ass. His eyes went wide, and fierce, and he froze, but his cock twitched inside of her. Naya knew she was in a bit of trouble. She was stuck in his gaze, and wasn't sure what he was going to do next. So she reached up and stroked the side of his face. 

"Sorry?" She offered with a small smile. It wasn't really an apology or a question, but she wanted to know if they were still good. He answered her with another hard thrust, followed by completely pulling out, rising onto his knees, and turning her over onto her stomach. 

"Don't be." Was all he said before he filled her again, "but I'm not going to hold back anymore." And he didn't. He railed into her with even more force than before at an insane pace. Every stroke had her pinned to the mattress and screaming with pleasure. She could feel his cock getting harder and thicker; she knew he was close, but every time she thought she could feel his climax approaching he would rein himself in just enough to prolong the pounding. 

He reached under her stomach and with the pads of his finger tips firmly pressed on her swollen clit. She gasped and came immediately, surprised by her incoherent screams. He didn't let up. Amos switched from all-out pounding, to slowly dragging his cock in and out of her now engorged and slick cunt. It was almost worse; so good that she felt delirious. 

*****

Naya was losing sense of how long they'd been fucking, or how many times she'd climaxed. Was this what he'd meant when he said he wouldn't want to stop after one time? Amos was still behind her, and over her. Her legs felt weak, her muscles spent, he was kissing and licking her sweat-soaked back. He sat up with his knees on either side of her hips, his dick still deep inside her. He placed one hand on her back, one on her ass, and rolled his hips, and her eyes shot open, as she cried out - it was too much, she couldn't go on, it was all too much. She was practically questioning creation, begging the powers-that-be silently for release that she couldn't ask for, because it was too fucking good - she would never ask him to stop. 

And then suddenly he did; he pulled out, and laid down nearly on top of her, with his face very close to hers. "Hey," was all he said, as he wiped the tears from her cheek. Naya hadn't even realized she was crying; her body had given up everything to him. She inhaled deeply and blinked a few times, and looked back at him. He looked so lost, but she couldn't understand why. 

"Hey." She replied, "Why'd you stop?" She sniffed a bit and wiped at her own cheeks, as she rolled to her side, and he laid down beside her, draping his leg over her protectively.

"You're done." Amos wiped at her cheek again, and in reply pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side a little, and gave her the slightest smile, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't," She smiled, "Sex is messy Amos. People don't have sex because it's clean and tidy." She smiled a little and brought her hand up to cup his face. He leaned into her touch. "People have sex with other people because they need something. I needed that Amos." 

She reached down between the two of them, and fisted his red cock before she kissed him on the mouth; only his pleasure mattered to her now.

She rolled on top of him; her body was humming as she took his cock, lined him up and slipped back down around his length and ground down as deep as she could. Amos put his hands on her hips and groaned at the depth, and squeezed her hips. She swiveled like she was dancing to an imaginary rhythm. He moaned and ran his hand up her stomach and gently rubbed her breast. Watching her move above him like that was pushing him over his own edge; he knew he wouldn't last long like this. 

"Amos," she breathed, and repeated it with each breath. 

Naya chanting his name had him reeling, he felt hysterical, he could feel the wetness behind his own eyes. His hips jerked spontaneously while hers continued to grind down around him unrelenting, and when he came inside of her, his ears ringing, her silhouette was the last thing he saw before his vision went white and starry. He blinked, and gasped, and she stopped moving but didn't get off right away. Instead she leaned forward and rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart beat, slowly becoming more regular. 

They laid there a while. Without speaking, until eventually they fell asleep like that, a perfect mess, attached at the hip. 

*****


	2. Part 5 (of 8)

The Solar system worked on Earth time. A fact that unified and offended different factions of people in equal measure. Time was relative, if not subjective, to each planet, but as a means of keeping businesses running, it was necessary to have a universal measurement of time. When earthlings bounded out into the cosmos it wasn't without a reliable tool for measuring time. The first groups of astronauts relied completely on Earth GMT. But once Mars was colonized it became evident that a new standard of time was necessary. Earth-24, or E24, became the clock the system set their watches to. Amos looked at his watch: 2358.08.27.09:38:45. Naya had been gone for almost 3 hours. 

For most of the last 24 hours, they'd been fucking or sleeping. He knew they would eventually have to stumble back to their regular lives. Earlier Amos had left her room long enough to get water and food, while she napped. When he got back, she was gone; he assumed to shower, or check on something in the machine shop or engineering. 

He was tired so he laid down and let the easy half g lull him back to sleep. He wasn't often sentimental, but he liked the way her still-damp pillow case felt against the back of his neck. When Amos woke up and Naya still wasn't back he assumed she had work to do, else she had gone to eat. He didn't go looking for her; not right away. 

Since he didn't have anywhere else to be, he decided to take advantage of the thrust gravity and put the training equipment to use. An hour passed. Amos wasn't worried. There wasn't really anywhere she could go. It was space after all. But pushing and pulling resistance trainers had fired him up; he was horny. So he decided to go looking.

*****

After the first night it was obvious to the rest of the crew what Amos and Naya were up to, so they gave them a wide berth. Naya ate in a sort of dazed silence, recalling the last few hours in her cabin. Doubt was creeping in. Doubt about whether she should have started something that had the potential for so much hurt. The other crew-mates seemed less shocked. James came in for coffee while she sat in the galley, smirking as he went back to his watch on the command deck. She had a shift in a couple of hours, Amos' wasn't for just over 12 hours. The biggest benefit to having a few extra crew members on board was spreading the duty roster a little thinner. 

Naya wanted to go right back to bed with Amos as soon as she was done eating. She was sure of it. But a warning voice kept nagging at her from her past; don't get tied down, don't get invested. So instead of heading back to bed, she decided to keep James company up on the command deck. 

James was telling her about training in the military, or serving in the military, or serving on a shipping freighter, or maybe it was all of the above. He'd been talking for a while, he was interesting, and a good story teller, but she was having a hard time following him, her mind kept wandering back to Amos. His hands. His mouth. His other body parts. Naya blinked hard to clear her mind. She looked at her watch: 2358.08.27.09:45:05. She had been gone for just about 3 hours. 

"Don't let me keep you. You have a shift in about an hour. You have things to do." James said when he noticed Naya check her watch. She was about to politely disagree, when Amos climbed half way up the narrow ladder, just the top half of his body visible over the floor edge. As soon as he saw her, his unshifting expression, shifted, "What are you doing up here?" he asked.   
Naya rose from her chair, "I don't know," she managed to get out, as she walked across the small space to climb down the ladder. He slid down the rails and out of the way, so she could come down. 

"Later." James called from above. Amos' eyes flicked up toward his voice but he didn't respond. He turned his attention back to Naya and titled his head slightly to the side with the faintest twitch of an eyebrow the only question he was going to ask. He knew it wasn't really his place to question her motives for anything. So the eyebrow was more than enough. 

Naya offered, "I was eating, and James seemed lonely, and then I never got back to take a shower, and now I have a shift in 45 minutes." She inhaled. 

"'Don't have to explain to me. I was lonely, so I came looking." Amos looked down at her hand for a moment like he wanted to take it. But he could see she was mulling something over in her head. He hoped it wasn't doubt. But it looked a lot like it. "Come on," he said, "let's go." and he turned to walk across the deck and down the next ladder, leading her, "come on."

She followed him down to the showers on the medical/hygiene deck. Amos stripped off all of his clothes very unceremoniously, and set the dial on the shower for a temperature warmer than he would have normally used. She was staring at him again. The tattoos. The scars, and scorch marks. But it was more than that, it was the way he moved. Every move was efficient utility. Economy of motion she thought to herself. He positioned himself directly in front of her, and set about removing her coveralls. Her eyes followed the way he maneuvered her to undo the grip-tape at her wrists and ankles. She was about to protest, but chose instead to tune out the nagging voice in her head. Space was big, and Naya was lonely too. Amos had said he was lonely. Stop overthinking! She looked back at his eyes, he was looking at her breasts as he unzipped her. Yep, he was 'lonely' all right. Her eyes drifted down his body, she was 'lonely' too.

This was easy, this she could do. She could compartmentalize. Besides, it was only 80 hours. She knew she needed to move on from the Rocinante, and the crew she was becoming too familiar with. James with his charming and funny stories. Amos with his easy friendship, that was turning into, whatever this was. It was clear to her, after Tycho, she needed to plot a new course.

He reached into her coveralls gripping her sides as he slid his hands around and up her back, pulling her to his chest. Her coveralls fell away once they were past her hips, and she stepped out of them and into the shower with him, their mouths finally crushing into one another. Under the warm stray of purified water, Naya clawed at his neck, and shoulder as he pulled her tighter and closer. This felt different, even more intimate somehow.

Maybe this wasn't going to be so easy after all. Amos kissed her too deeply, he held her too tightly. Her body pulled at him, she wanted to be closer. It was a lot, and it was just kissing. "Hey," he said, breaking the kiss. Naya was panting. but she didn't want to stop. She pulled him back into the kiss, and reached down between their bodies to fist his cock, and without warning lined him up at her entrance. The 90 second water alert chimed in the shower. Amos put one hand on her hip and thrust up inside of her, pinning her against the cold wall. It was hard to tell with the shower spray, but he thought she might be crying again, he tried to read her face in between blindingly blissful strokes. 

Naya buried her face in his neck, and in between her keening moans, sucked a bruise into his skin. Amos pinned her against the wall and ground his pelvis into her mound in slow deep circles. Economy of... She broke away from his shoulder gasping and crying out as she came, forcing herself not to call out his name. Choking down the regret that washed over her along with the orgasm. Amos tried to pull away to look at her, but she grabbed him, and moaned in his ear, in the best version of sultry she could muster, "I want to feel you cum inside me." The water turned off. 

Amos rocked his hips and slammed into her a few more times, then growled low in the back of his throat, "want you to look at me." He pulled back and thrust up again, holding her in place with his hips, and arching back to look at her, his hands framed on either side of her face, "Naya, look at me." She kept her eyes down, and swiveled her hips, trying to distract or entice him. She let the corners of her mouth slide up into a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes, and she knew it, so she kept them down. "Look at me," it was a command. He wasn't moving anymore. 

"I can't!" she practically yelled, and her hands fell to her sides. 

Amos stepped back away from her. She turned to face the wall. He didn't know what to do next. So he adjusted the shower dial again, and the water resumed. Amos used the soap to methodically and carefully wash Naya without moving her and used the removable shower head to rinse her. He quickly washed and rinsed himself as well. 

When the water stopped again, he spoke, "if I'm reading this wrong, or if we're done, you just gotta say so." Before he stepped out of the shower away from her, he looked down at her hands.


	3. Part 6 (of 8)

She wasn't exactly sure what just happened, or how things had gotten so far from where they'd started. This was definitely not how she wanted to start the day. Or her shift on watch. 

Amos had left her alone in the shower. She was thankful for that. Naya did not want to cry, but felt like she was on the verge of it. 

She stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel and quickly dried herself off. She remembered his hands passing over her body as he had washed back, neck and shoulders. She shuddered. It was so intimate, as intimate as anything else they'd done. While he washed her she was able to avoid looking at him, and kept kidding herself that it meant nothing. It had ended much too quickly. Amos was, as always thorough, and fast. She caught a glimpse of him as he rinsed water over his face, and for the briefest flash, he looked almost sad. A second later the look was gone, and Amos was his usual stoic self again. A few minutes later and he was gone as well. 

When she was finished drying herself and wringing her hair out into the towel, she tossed it back into the stall before she sealed the door from the outside and pressed the vacuum stall button to reclaim any remaining water on the walls and in the towel back into the ships recycling system.

She pulled on her coveralls, and made her way to climb down the two levels to the crew quarters. Naomi was sitting in the galley eating and looking at a schematic on her hand terminal as Naya passed her on the middle deck. They nodded acknowledgement to each other. But when Naomi didn't immediately go back to her schematic, Naya took this as invitation to join her. As she sat down, she looked at her watch, "shift at 1100 hours, right?" Naomi asked. 

"Yea. Have to check on the panels we re-coated for the airlock, before I start, just want to make sure this new coat adheres better than the last." It was easy to talk shop with Naomi, she was an engineer, but didn't lord it over everyone the way previous crew-mates had. 

"Should be better, we paid enough for the alloy powder," Naomi scoffed. Then inhaled deeply, clearly thinking about how to say, what she was going to say next.

"I've known Amos for a while now," she started. 

Here we go, Naya thought, holding her breath, shocked, that Naomi was talking to her about Amos.

"He's a serious guy. He's easy to know. Loyal. Honest. But I've never seen him like this." 

"Like what?"

"Interested." 

Naomi stood, put her hand terminal in a pocked of her coveralls, and rinsed her bowl, and then walked out of the galley and down the ladder. 

Naya sat for another minute, trying to simultaneously absorb and deflect what Naomi had just said. 

"Fuck me," she let out before heading down to her cabin to change her clothes. 

She dressed in a clean pair of socks, shorts and tank top before putting her coveralls back on, and retying her boots. Naya grabbed her own hand terminal and headed down a deck to check the panels before her shift started. They were curing nicely, she was proud of work. Amos would be too, he'd given her a tip about modifying the application temperature slightly. 

"Fuck," she cursed at herself, and then she sighed that she was thinking of him unconsciously. He was such an inborn fixture in her life here. They all were. At least he wasn't going to be on watch with her. She couldn't face him right now. She didn't know where he was right now, and that was fine with her. She just had to get through the next couple days, and knew she wouldn't be able to avoid him the whole time. But for now, she needed some space. 

Flying through a mostly empty expanse seemed like a good way to get some. Ironically, when you lived on a ship with only about 3000 square feet of living-space, it didn't seem to matter how much of it was literally at your doorstep, space was at a premium. 

Naya checked the temperature of the surface of the panels one more time, and then headed back up to the command deck. She knew that Noami had been hanging around waiting for James, and he was probably looking forward to being relieved so he could spend some time with her. 

As she climbed the up the five decks, somewhere after the second ladder she could feel the gravity giving way. Which was odd; they were not supposed to be stopped or slowing down for another day or so. As she reached the upper deck she had to engage her mag boots. Naya called out to James as she climbed the final ladder to the flight deck, "Hey, why are we stopping?" It was also odd that James was on the flight deck and not the command deck. 

James was in the flight deck now with Alex looking at trajectory maps, and shipping lane routes on a 3D overlay of the system. Naya jumped up the ladder and pulled herself up over the last floor before clicking her boots back on. "So what's going on?"

Alex conceded in a sleepy drawl that after many test scenarios, once a course was laid in, and the auto pilot with course-correcting, and auto array targeting for debris were set, the ship practically flew itself. 

Alex offered, "While I do like to feel appreciated, and secretly have wished that our girl here weren't quite so damn autonomous, either Tycho station has moved, or we may have a virus. And since Fred Johnson has been pretty good about not taking that station of his out of the belt, I'm thinking its the later."

James added, "the trajectory would be good, if we were flying a decade ago. Alex thinks its the auto pilot, the last version install. Have you seen Naomi? We're going to need her."

"Yeah, she's around, I'll get her," Naya said and then disengaged her boots, and floated back down to the command deck, re-engaging them when she was a few inches above the floor and effectively falling into a chair. She thumbed on her hand terminal, and found Naomi was in engineering, and opened a voice-only channel.

"Naya, whats going on up there? This is unplanned." 

"Yeh, James and Alex think we have a virus, something to do with the latest autopilot version install, he wants you to check it out." She leaned back in her chair, and reached to strap herself in, so she didn't have to keep fighting the oppositional force that kept pushing her out of the chair. 

"Ok, I'll look at it, but the next time he cuts my engines like that tell him to give us some warning."

"Sure, you coming up here, or staying down there?"

"Its fine, I can work it from here." 

"Ok. I'll let him know," Naya finished, and then turned the channel off, and called up to James, "Naomi said she'll look at, but she's staying in engineering." 

"Thanks," James said, "is she mad I cut the engines without warning?"

"What do you think," Naya responded.

She turned on her operations terminal to review her start of watch protocol, then opened an article she was reading about super-hardened mineral refinement. She watched long range, and short range communications for incoming messages, or bounced signals and noticed their signal was bouncing back from Ceres, when it should have been bouncing back from Anderson Station. Which is probably how James caught it in the first place. 

She kind of thought about bouncing a signal off of someone else, and then checked herself. That kind of thinking was not going to solve anything. It wasn't going to make leaving this crew any easier, and it definitely wasn't going to help her current situation with Amos. 

Her hand terminal beeped. It was Amos, almost as if on cue. She was flattered for a moment that he called her instead of anyone else. Then she remembered, it was her watch. 

"I woke up floating, what's going on?" he said over the channel. 

"James and Alex think its a virus with the autopilot, Naomi is looking at it," she said, she was trying to keep any emotion out of her voice. 

There was silence. Like he was listening, waiting for her to speak more. 

"I'll let you know if they need another pair of hands."

Silence. Then, "roger." The channel went off.


	4. Part 7 (of 8)

Amos left Naya in the shower, he really couldn't say why he washed her before he left though. At first he just felt like he should, but then it felt more like, if she'd let him, he'd enjoy the feeling of her skin just a little longer. She didn't tell him to leave her alone. She didn't have to. Amos knew he was probably missing something, but at least this much was clear to him. He could tell when he wasn't wanted. 

The ship seemed really quiet on his short walk back to his cabin. He had the distinct impression that the Rocinante was listening to him. "God," he mumbled exasperatedly to himself, "turning into god-damn Alex." Two decks down, he locked himself in his cabin, and stripped again. He figured he was pent-up, so he laid down with the intent of stroking himself to sleep, not bothering to belt himself in given the thrust they were under. Masturbating was usually better under thrust gravity, but this time it didn't even come close to what he really wanted.

When he tipped his head to the side, the scrape of his beard on the pillow reminded him of her hands on his face and neck. When he dug his heels into the mattress he remembered the sweet pressure of Naya pulling him closer. This was some fucked up sentimental bullshit he thought to himself, and jerked himself harder until he finally came, forcing the orgasm, and passed out not long after. His sleep was fitful and broken. When he woke it was to find himself floating in the middle of his cabin, various objects unstowed rebounding off the walls, himself included. 

"Fucking Alex!"

Amos pushed himself off the nearest surface to gain some momentum then grabbed a rail. He grumbled to himself while he put on a pair of shorts, socks, and his mag boots, before he walked over to where his hand terminal was floating, grabbed it, and called up to Naya on the command deck. He hesitated, and exhaled an almost growl, before addressing her, "I woke up floating, what's going on?" 

Naya gave him a very brief answer, and he found that he was actually waiting for more, like her words or voice we're feeding him. But she brushed him off, and it caused a very small ache inside his chest. Of course it did he reasoned; they had something good going on, and without any explanation she cut him off. Amos had been shunned before, why should this be any different.

He pulled on a pair of work pants, loose enough to slip over the boots, and wrapped the grip tape at the bottoms, then found a clean shirt to pull on. If the ship did in fact have some kind of virus, he figured he might as well head down to engineering in case anything else went wrong. He was awake now anyway, and wasn't likely going back to sleep anytime soon. 

When Amos arrived in engineering Naomi was reading code on three separate screens, humming and talking to herself. He didn't want to interrupt her, so he kept going, and made his way into the cargo bay, and decided to just check that everything was where it should be. In his mind, there was nothing worse than finding menial jobs to occupy his time. He would have rather been fixing something, so he left the cargo bay, and Naomi in engineering and decided to head back up to either the machine shop, or command deck. He had tasks he could legitimately work on from either of those places. 

Before he left Naomi called him out, "Amos, what are you doing down here? Are you avoiding her?" 

"Well, yep," was his only answer. But he didn't know why, and before Naomi could ask further, he proceeded up the ladder to the workshop. The irony of being trapped on a tiny boat with a single person you wanted to avoid while being surrounded by nothing but expanse, was not lost on him. He stared out one of the tiny windows on the airlock as he passed it, and thought, 'no, fuck this, I don't want to avoid her, I want her.' Then with purpose he bounded up the next 5 flights of steps to find her. Not sure what he would say or do when he did. 

"Hey!" he started as he approached her from the opposite end of the command deck, "what's your problem?" He was out of breath, and sounded more aggressive than he wanted to, but the way her head snapped up, and her mouth dropped open, he couldn't help but smile a bit. 

James and Alex had lifted their eyes slightly from the screens they were looking at, eyebrows up, Alex muttered not loud for anyone but himself, "trouble in paradise." James only smirked. 

Amos walked over to where Naya was sitting, looking like he had a speech ready to deliver, but before he could, Naya unbuckled herself, jumped up, and put a hand on his chest, in an attempt to either placate him or guide him off the command deck. He allowed himself to be steered by her gentle shove, and marched backwards. 

Naya was very aware that James and Alex were obviously intently listening, and she knew that wherever Naomi was, she probably had an open comm and was listening as well. Nothing was private on this damn boat she thought, and couldn't help but smile at all of the things she'd overheard in the months past. 

She looked up at Amos and his grim expression, and realized that she owed him at the very least, an explanation, and she stopped smiling immediately with the knowledge that while Amos would most likely be fine, and unfazed by her plans to resign her post on-board the Roci, she, would not. 

Naya sucked in a breath, and held it, prepared to say the words, "I'm going to give James my noticed, and once I've collected my pay at Tycho, I'm signing off." There. That was it. She left a whole hell of a lot out, but that was the truth, wasn't it? 

"Ok," was all Amos said. But then followed it quickly with, "why don't you wanna fuck me anymore?"

Shit. He held her pinned in his expecting glare. 

"Um. I do. I mean I don't not... its complicated Amos," was all she could get out. 

Amos was looking down, clearly working his way around her double-negative, "ok", was all he said before he stepped real close to her, and tipped her backwards, off-balance, disengaging her boots, and grabbing her now weightless body and throwing her over his shoulder in the easiest fireman's carry ever. 

Her heart soared and then swooped, she knew he'd basically just interpreted her omission of truth as consent. 

Naya gripped his canvas belt, and in one swift move, extended her legs up, and re-engaged her boots, and planted her feet firmly on the ceiling. Then crouched.

"Amos, let me be explicit. I should not have any more sex with you. Not because its not good, because jesus-fuck..." she trailed off, "Because I'm already too damn attached to all of you, and I'm no good at sticking around." She breathed. Shuddered. Was it easier like this, looking up at him, down on the floor, separated by gravity. Maybe. Just out of reach. 

"Just stay," he said as he reached up to her. 

"No."

"Just stay," he continued to hold out his hand for her to take, as he spoke slowly, and softly. 

She could feel her resolve slipping, and could feel the tears burgeoning behind her eyes. What was it about him. Fuck. 

"Amos," she sniffed, "its not that easy."

"Why? Just live a normal day. Just stay," the words sounded easy, and logical. 

She felt really silly all of a sudden, and realized that from their vantage point James and Alex could see her crouched on the ceiling. They were pretending not to notice. She reached out, toward Amos' open hand, and released her boots. Amos pulled her down to stand in front of him before she turned them back on. He smeared her tears into her hair to keep them from floating around the open space, or maybe he was wiping them from her cheeks, it was hard to tell. 

"Will you please come have sex with me?" Amos asked earnestly. 

James choked. 

Naya swallowed, "yes." 

"Good," Amos said, looking down at her hand, this time he took it, to lead her back to his room.

"We can still hear you," James said.

"Ok," Amos and Naya said in unison. 

*****


	5. Part 8 (of 8)

The crew quarters were basically in the middle of the ship. Which meant that it really didn't matter where you went, you could hear Amos and Naya going at it. 

Alex turned to James, and asked with a raised brow, "do you ever just feel like we're dorm mates who also happen to live on a spaceship?" 

James replied, "yes, and I also feel like we just lost our watch, and no one seems too bothered by the fact that we've already been set back at least 4 hours, none of that seems to matter, so..." he trailed off and resumed scanning the operations terminal. 

Alex took the hint and got back to work as well.

******

"There's no reason for you to resign. Unless you have a reason to resign. But it seems like you might be resigning to get away from us," he paused, "or me." 

Amos opened the door to his cabin and motioned for Naya to enter ahead of him. She did so but she rolled her eyes and sighed. 

"Did you just hold a door open for me?" she could feel her voice rising, her panic setting in again. "See, this is why. This is why I have to leave. You're opening doors!" Naya was pacing around his small room, in what little space there was, twisting her fists in front of her. She felt caged in. 

"So you don't want me to open doors, got it. Should I also stop brewing extra coffee for Jim?" he was lifting his eyebrows in his best version of sarcastic, "that's stupid". Amos sat down on his bed. 

Naya paused for a moment, distracted, all of a sudden from her emotional implosion, "how do you have a double bed!?"

Amos had taken it upon himself to modify his sleeping quarters, effectively removing the top bunk and mounting it next to the bottom bunk, "yeah, ages ago, Jim hates it," as if that explained it. 

There was silence. Naya eyed the rest of his room. Things were still displaced and floating from the unexpected loss of gravity. She bent down to retrieve a small metal box, and then started plucking playing cards from the air. He let her, watching the way she sorted each card so that it was facing right-side-up. 

"You don't have to do that," he said, as he bent down to collect some cards as well.

"I know," she replied sadly.

"No, I mean, you don't have to put them right-side-up," he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk that told her he was definitely making fun of her quirk. 

She laughed and then sighed, "but I do, and that's also why I have to leave. I need to be in control. If over nothing else, at least myself. And the longer I stay here, the more out of control I seem to feel."

Amos narrowed his eyes, and with the slightest tick of his jaw, asked 'why' without saying a word.

Naya sighed, looking down at the floor, and the clutter.

Before she could elaborate, Amos leaned in, and kissed her. Not a kiss to prelude sex. A kiss that he hoped would convey some of what he felt for her. He cupped either side of her face and rubbed his calloused thumbs over her cheeks. She could feel the tears threatening behind her eyes, and looked up at the ceiling, anywhere but into his waiting face. 

Naomi's voiced sounded over the ship-wide intercom, "got it sorted. Just let me know when we're resuming. Alex can..." 

Amos took a step and pressed a button on the wall next to the door and Naomi's voice cut off, then he turned back to Naya. 

"Well that's that." They could hear and feel the ship make a directional change, and they both braced for thrust, which intensified over the next minute. 

"That's a full -G, James' trying to make up lost time," Naya said as she sank down to her knees on the floor and continued to collect the items that were now gravity-bound. Amos followed her down, kneeling directly in front of her, their knees touching. 

"I like you. I don't want you to go. Not yet." It was practically a declaration of love and fidelity coming from Amos. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and brushed the side of his face against hers. 

She had reached up from the floor and was resting her hands on her lap now. He used his other hand to pull her by the waist until she was in his lap, and she curled her arms into his chest, fingering the little bit of skin she could get her hands on. She wasn't sure if she was conceding defeat, or if Amos was reaching her on some level that no one else had before. She didn't want to care about that right now. 

His hand behind her head slid down her neck and settled between her breasts, pulling down the V of her coveralls. He shifted on his knees, and she could feel his growing erection. His breath was at her ear, as he scraped his beard along the side of her neck, before he sucked her soft flesh into a wet open mouth kiss. 

He brought his other hand around to join the first at he place where her coveralls closed, and thumbed the snap. He gave a single satisfied chuckle, before he pulled and listened to the coveralls pop all the way open from neck to hip. He smiled against her neck, and almost giggled at her sharp intake of breath. 

Naya pulled back to look at him for a second, hands on his shoulders, incredulity written on her face. Amos gave her a look of feigned innocence, "these are my favourite," he said before he used the now wide open coveralls to pull her back against his chest, capturing her mouth, in a kiss that was just this side of manic. 

She let him lead; let his tongue invade her mouth, probing and pulling soft moans from her. His enthusiasm spurred her on and she was now leaning into him, her nails raking the back of his neck and head. She could barely breathe. When she pulled away for air, he redirected his efforts to her neck and collar bone. He slid her sleeves down her arms, leaving just her tank top, and he palmed her breast through the worn white cotton. 

Naya reached over his back to grab a handful of his shirt and started to pull it up and over his head. Amos paused his attention on her neck and shoulders, practically panting as he waited for her to continue, "yes," he said with cold urgency as he looked her dead in the eye, and she pulled the shirt off of him. This pause, this moment of perfect clarity, gave her the thing she had been looking for. Assurance, that Amos was indeed what she wanted, and that he was in it with her, whatever it was. One look, one word, is sometimes all it takes.

He growled, and grabbed her, around the waist, snaking both hands up the back of her thin covering, using the motion of his arms pulling her close again to lift the small top up over her breasts before he crushed his body into hers. His mouth returned to hers, and she felt ecstatic; she wanted to simultaneously scream, cry, and laugh. Amos picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her the few short steps over to his bed. He bent down, and placed her ass on the bed, and his body between her legs. 

Amos held her face in his hands again, and said once more, "don't go, stay here with us, we know you want to,” Naya nodded. "Say it," he returned.

"Ok, I'll stay," she paused. He noticed. He wasn't letting go of the stare. "I'm staying! I'm staying because I want to! Is that enough?" 

"Yep." He kissed the corner of her mouth, tongue poking out to lick the inside of her upper lip. 

There wasn't really any more work to getting her coveralls off, just a little bit of shimmying, and she was once again naked before him. She held onto the waist of his pants as he kissed down the sides of her face, and neck, across her collar bone before he pulled one breast into his warm mouth, and other into a firm finger rolling squeeze. Naya was still holding onto his waist and trying to bring her body closer to his, as she panted his name, "Amos," and palmed his cock through his pants. 

He held her body steady and dragged his face down her abdomen inhaling every sweet bit of her scent as he made his way lower. Her fingers finally opened his pants and dove inside to capture what she had been enjoying rubbing through the fabric. Amos groaned and shivered when she wrapped her hand around his cock, and gave it testing squeeze. He pushed her knees farther apart and prepared to dive in, but she stopped him. With a salacious grin, she followed up, "take these pants off, and 69-me already."

Amos practically jumped up, kicking off his boots and pants, which was saying something given the gravity, and nearly leaped back onto the bed and between Naya's thighs. She was quick to wrap an arm around his muscled quad, and without any further hesitation put her nose into the joint of his hip and inhaled his clean metallic musk. She was scraping her nails up the back of his thigh, lightly licking the tip of his cock preparing to take him in her mouth, when he flipped her leg over his shoulder and licked a long wide strip from her clit to her anus, and back again. 

Her surprised moan, followed by the shift of her hips, directly into his face, had him squeezing her ass eagerly. She found she was now holding onto his thigh for dear life, and his cock at her cheek was taunting her. She pulled it into her mouth, and swallowed at the thrust he gave when she did; the head of his dick bumping the back of her throat, as he stuttered in the attention he was paying to her now soaked pussy. 

"You taste so good," was the last intelligent thing she heard him say, because they were now fully absorbed in giving and taking pleasure from each other. His hips pushed against her, and she returned the motion with fervor. Amos could feel her walls starting to flutter, and knew she needed more. He reached around and put his two middle fingers into her cunt. She gasped around his dick, and he stilled his hips as he focused on the way her body went rigid and then her hips started to rock faster. Amos clamped his other arm around her ass, and pumped his fingers into her faster, while letting his bearded chin press into her clit. His dick popped out of her mouth as she came, walls clenching around his fingers, body bowed, a litany of curse words, and screams. 

"Holy fuck!" she finally exclaimed after she had taken a few breaths. 

Naya rolled onto her back, and Amos pivoted on his knee so that he was again between her legs, facing her. He bent over her, on hands and knees and settled his pelvis against hers. He stroked his dick between her folds, nudging at her entrance, waiting. She was breathless, and still coming back to her senses. Amos leaned forward and pulled a nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his lips, all while stroking her sated core. He switched breasts, and sucked a little harder, letting his teeth grate across the now pebbled nub. She was running her fingers through his hair moaning happily. 

"What are you waiting for?" she finally asked, looking down her body to him, her breast still in his mouth. 

He growled in the back of his throat, a low moan, before he let go of her nipple, and then looked up at her. Amos ran his hand up her side, and under her shoulder, lowering himself without letting all his weight onto her. He kissed the side of shoulder and ran his tongue along her neck and nosed around her ear, inhaled, then breathed out, "I'm waiting for you to tell me you want it." 

Naya pulled at his back, hooking one of her legs up and over his ass. Amos sucked on her ear and bit the delicate flesh of her throat. She rocked her hips up into his, holding the back of his neck, and breathing in the flavour of her own release on his beard. He continued to drag is cock back and forth through her wet and wanton pussy before he leaned back, to get a look at her.

She was wrecked, panting, she pulled him in hard, and kissed his mouth with abandon, bucking her hips again, then barely breathing, muttered, "come on! Amos, please!" She turned her head like she was going to squeeze her eyes shut again, but he kissed her, holding her in place, and smiled, catching her, drawing his nose along hers, holding her gaze. "I want it. I want you," she told him.

He tipped his hips, the head of his dick slipped inside her, and they both inhaled. She circled her hips one time, and he was fully seated. She moaned at the fullness, at the stretch. He held his breath and held himself back from railing into her. They both exhaled. Amos brought his other hand under her other shoulder and cocked his knee up. Naya locked her other leg around the back of his. She rolled her hips, and he followed suit. Their motion was slow and deep. When she moved, he moved; their bodies ground into one another, spiraling toward climax. 

"Fuck Naya," Amos gasped, his face beside hers. Every snap of her hips had him seeing stars. He was pounding into her, his pubic bone grinding into her clit, her breathing erratic as she clawed at his back. She replied in kind, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuf, fuf..." He could feel her clamping down around his cock, feel her edging closer. He was praying she was close because he was on the edge. He was grunting with restraint, "that's it, right fucking there, you feel so fucking tight squeezing me. O, fuck, Naya," his voice faltered, that thin restraint failing. The tremolo in his voice pushed her over her edge, and she was moaning his name, cursing, and screaming in ecstasy, guttural, almost feral, as she came on his cock, wave after of wave of pleasure, that only increased when she could feel him swell, his hips losing any semblance of rhythm or control as he too peaked and crested, cursing, and groaning, and capturing her mouth as he locked himself inside of her as he came. He kissed her so hard he could feel the tears behind his own yes. She kissed him back just as deeply, both rocking through the aftershocks of their orgasms. 

Naya lazily ran her hand up and down his back. His breathing was slowly returning to normal; he pulled a sheet up and off the bed and draped it over them. They were already drifting off when she asked, "when's your watch?" 

To which Amos replied in a half-laugh, "don't care."

******

Alex looked at James, deadpan stare, "think she's staying?"

James replied, "yeah," he leaned back in his chair, "I think so."

"Amos ain’t doing watch today either."

"Nope."


End file.
